Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence

by Shirlee McCoy

  With her bedroom door closed and locked, she walked to the window and pressed her forehead against the cool panes, trying to calm her racing heart. She couldn’t live like this. Being deceitful wasn’t in her nature. If anything, she was too truthful at times.

  “Did you find the information yet?”

  Bailey stifled a scream and twirled around at the sound of the deep, unexpected voice. She made out the silhouette of a man sitting in a chair by the window. It had to be the same man who’d threatened her.

  She considered running. Or screaming. Or slamming something over his head. Instead, she stayed by the window, her hand reaching for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing. She needed to make it clear to this man that she didn’t have the information he’d “requested.”

  “I don’t know where it is or what it is or how to locate it.”

  He stood and made his way toward her. A mask concealed his features. Bailey shivered, wishing she could disappear.

  “You need to find it.” His voice sounded low, rumbling, menacing.

  “How can I find something when I don’t even know what it is?” Her words came out in a rush. “Why don’t you get it? You’ve had the opportunity when we’ve left the house.”

  “I can’t move about freely.”

  “Neither can I! Mr. Carter’s son is here. He caught me today.”

  “He can tell you where the information is.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. What exactly was he implying? “Ed doesn’t know. He would have it by now. And if you want the information so badly, why are you trying to kill us?”

  “That was just a warning to let you know how serious I am.”

  “I have no doubt that you’re serious.” She pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could disappear. “What I don’t understand is why you’re targeting me. Why not Ed?”

  Not that she wanted to put Ed in danger, either. She just needed to keep this man talking. She needed more information.

  “The person you need to question is Ed.”

  “Why?” She gripped the curtain as her pulse spiked in anticipation.

  “He’s not who he claims to be.”

  Her throat tightened. “Who is he?”

  “Why don’t you ask him? Ask him why none of his neighbors know him. Why he has no roots, no past. Where he was when his father died. Ask him.”

  What was the man talking about? Ed was a DC lawyer who involved himself with cases of international law. He was into the social scene out there. Into getting ahead. Bailey had him all figured…except, what if she didn’t? She’d sensed from the beginning there was something else about Ed.

  “Your time is running out. I happen to know that your niece has a soccer tournament this weekend. I’d hate for something to happen and ruin her big moment.”

  “Leave my family out of this.” Anger surged in her, making her blood boil.

  “Things are going to get ugly and fast. Consider this your last warning.”

  The man squeezed her neck, some kind of pressure point there, and then everything went black.

  *

  Bailey woke up the next morning still lying on the floor.

  She sat up, rubbing her neck as everything came back to her.

  There’d been a man. In her room. Reminding her of the urgency of the situation.

  She stood, her legs wobbly at first. She wandered out of the room, looking for Ed.

  He was nowhere. Where did he go? Had the intruder last night hurt him?

  She didn’t think so. Her intuition was that he’d disappeared on his own and would return soon enough. He was doing the supersecretive thing again and shutting her out. Perhaps proving that his kindness all along had been an act.

  Just as she grabbed her coffee, the doorbell rang. It was Todd.

  “Mr. Carter’s son asked me to come over and look at the window.”

  “Did he?” Bailey pulled the door open. “By all means, then, come inside.”

  “So, how’s it going?” he asked, walking toward the kitchen with her. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

  “I intend on leaving; I’m just helping with a few things around here first.” She tried to choose her words carefully. “When did Ed talk to you?”

  “He called last night. Said he was going to pick up some supplies today and asked if I could swing by.”

  “I see.”

  He set his tools on the table and walked toward the plywood that now covered the window. “I never could believe the rumors I heard about Mr. Carter. He was the talk of the town from the day he moved here.”

  “What do you mean?” She leaned her hips against the kitchen counter, her interest sufficiently perked.

  “I heard he was CIA.” His tape measure snapped closed.

  Bailey’s throat went dry. “What?”

  Todd turned to face her. “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t hear those rumors.”

  “I didn’t, no.” Never. Ever. She’d had the inkling he wasn’t a number cruncher, but wow.

  “Yeah, it’s just island scuttlebutt. I know he told everyone he was State Department, but everyone knows that CIA falls under the State Department. People say that’s why he was so mysterious and that’s why he came here to Smuggler’s Cove. What better place for someone with a shady past to retire to? No one would find him here.”

  Except, what if someone did? What if Ed was right?

  “Be safe around that son of his. I don’t trust him.” Todd raised his chin and pulled his shoulders up.

  “Why wouldn’t you trust him?” Bailey put her hand on the counter, trying to steady her teetering thoughts.

  Todd shook his head, turning back to the window and jotting down some notes. “There’s just something about him. He seems too big-city, you know?”

  Yeah, Bailey did know. But she’d been beginning to think that Ed was different. She’d started to think her judgment of him was wrong. Maybe she should have trusted her initial impressions.

  Maybe she’d been blinded by another corporate-ladder climber again. Though she was in no way interested in him romantically, she needed to remember that most people were out for themselves. To think anything differently, she’d just be fooling herself. For future reference, she needed to remember that all of those guys she read about in her novels were unobtainable. The ones who were loyal, kind and strong only existed in fiction. To dream about them in real life was to set herself up for failure.

  “So, what do you think?”

  At the sound of Todd’s voice, Bailey snapped back to reality. “What?”

  “You were in another world there for a second, weren’t you? I said, before you head on to a new job, we should get ice cream or something.” He closed his notebook and turned to stare at her.

  She forced a smile. “Sure. Ice cream is always good.”

  He grinned. “Great. I’ll see you around, then. I got the measurements I needed.”

  *

  Bailey searched the house again while Ed was gone, but she could still find nothing. She had no idea where that information might be. She looked for papers and files or anything that might trigger a reaction in her. She came up empty. Each time she searched, her despair seemed to grow deeper. How was she ever going to find what that man needed?

  She finally gave up and decided to go on a walk. Maybe some fresh air would clear her head. She started down the path, headed toward Samantha’s place. She always enjoyed catching up with her friend.

  When she cleared the live oak trees, she spotted her friend playing Frisbee on the shoreline with her son. Samantha paused when she saw Bailey and waved her over. “Good to see you! What brings you out this way?”

  “Just getting some air.”

  “Can I get you a drink? Some lemonade maybe?” Connor and his dog, Rusty, took off scurrying down the shoreline, chasing away some seagulls.

  Bailey smiled. “I’d love some.”

  They went inside Samantha’s cozy cabin and her friend poured a nice, icy glass of the dri
nk. They sat down at the kitchen table. Outside, John chopped wood.

  Samantha leaned toward Bailey, her eyes sparkling. “So…who knew Mr. Carter’s son was so hunky?”

  Bailey laughed. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

  “Why beat around the bush? Is he as nice as he seemed?”

  “He’s…” What was the word? Bailey shrugged, unsure how to answer. “I’m not certain. Sometimes I think he’s unfeeling and other times I think he’s everything I assumed he wasn’t.”

  “He sounds quite mysterious, then. Like his father, perhaps?”

  Bailey swallowed hard before asking her next question. “Did you hear the rumor that his father was a spy?”

  Samantha nodded with hesitation. “Yeah, I heard something like that. You know how people like to make up stories, especially around here. That doesn’t mean there’s any truth to them.”

  Bailey had the urge to spill everything, but she knew she couldn’t. Not if there was any possibility that someone was listening. She kept checking her clothes, her watch and her belt for a sign that she’d been bugged. She probably wouldn’t recognize a listening device if she saw it, though. That meant she needed to stay quiet.

  “Well, I won’t tell Todd that he’s got some competition.” Samantha grinned again.

  “Todd and I are just friends.” Bailey absently fiddled with the apple-scented candle at the center of the table.

  Samantha raised her eyebrows. “You might feel that way, but does he?”

  Bailey shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t tried to lead him on. In all honesty, I’m surprised he’s back in town.”

  “I know. I ran into him a few days ago, right before the storm. He told me his mom is doing much better.”

  Bailey tensed. “Before the storm?” Certainly Samantha had misspoken.

  Samantha nodded. “That’s right. We were in town getting some supplies. Why do you look so surprised?’

  “Because he told me he just got back yesterday.”

  Samantha twisted her head in confusion. “Are you sure?”

  Bailey nodded. “Yes, I’m positive. For some reason, he lied to me. But why would he do that?”

  FOURTEEN

  Why would Todd lie to her? The thought wouldn’t leave her mind as she walked back to the house. Though she had no interest in dating him, she had a hard time believing he was deceitful. What was he trying to hide?

  As Bailey cleared the lane and reached the footbridge leading back to Mr. Carter’s estate, she saw something that made her pause. She ducked behind a tree to get a better look.

  A tall man with broad shoulders and sunglasses walked from behind the house toward the beach. Bailey’s gaze swung in that direction. By the pier, she spotted Ed. He stood with two other men. The three of them huddled together.

  What was going on? What if Ed really wasn’t trustworthy? Maybe he’d concocted a cover story that would make her heart go out to him, all the while secretly plotting schemes of his own?

  Worst yet—what if he really wasn’t Mr. Carter’s son? After all, his dad always called him Junior, not Ed. He’d never really said his son’s real name.

  The possibility startled her. But, now that she thought about it, there were no pictures of him anywhere. He’d claimed he had a key that no longer worked, but what if that was a lie? His answers had been vague. He’d said nothing about his father specific enough to prove they were related.

  Then again, Mr. Wilkins had recognized him. Certainly that meant that he was the real deal.

  Except that old man Wilkins, by all observations, didn’t have the best eyesight. He could barely empty the trash and run the riding lawn mower. Bailey had the feeling Mr. Carter had mainly kept him on staff to be kind. He mostly stood in the background, observing the work of others, hiring subcontractors and talking to his boss about fishing and politics. If there was anyone who could be fooled, it would be Mr. Wilkins.

  Could one of those men who talked to Ed now be the one who’d sneaked into her room? What if Ed had hired them? What if they were all in this together, some kind of good cop/bad cop routine, and Bailey was the one with the wool pulled over her eyes?

  The thought left an unsettled feeling in her stomach.

  Bailey stayed behind the tree until the men who’d come with Ed disappeared. They rode away in one boat and left another. She watched as Ed made his way toward the house. His gaze swung around as he walked across the lawn, almost as if he could feel that he was being watched.

  Once he disappeared inside, Bailey finally pushed herself away from the tree. It was time to find out exactly where Ed had been all day and, with any luck, who exactly he was.

  *

  Ed was pulling a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen when Bailey walked inside, her cheeks red with exertion. His pleasure at seeing her surprised him.

  But that pleasure quickly disappeared when he saw the fire in her eyes.

  “What are you up to?” she demanded, a hand on her hip.

  “Excuse me?” What in the world was she talking about? He filled his glass with water from the tap, sure to keep his actions easy and natural. He’d had years of practice.

  She stepped closer. “Who were those men with you out there on the pier? What are you planning?”

  His back muscles tightened. So Bailey had seen him out there. He’d hoped to keep it quiet and on the down low. He should have known better.

  “Oh, that. I had to go into town to pick up something.” He took a long sip, both because he was parched and to give her time to work out her thoughts. He could learn a lot about her through her accusations.

  She leaned toward him, indignation in her gaze. “Who are you, Ed? Are you really Mr. Carter’s son?”

  She was thinking like a spy now. Kudos to her.

  He set his empty glass on the counter with a thud. “Of course I’m Mr. Carter’s son. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because something’s not adding up, and I don’t like being deceived.”

  “Why do you think I’m deceiving you?”

  “For starters, how do I know that you’re really his son? There are no pictures. He only called his son Junior. Your key didn’t work. Why don’t you start talking, because I’d really like to hear what you have to say?”

  “How can I prove that to you?” He kept his voice easy, calm.

  “What was your father’s favorite football team?”

  “Redskins.”

  She shook her head. “Everyone from DC says that. Favorite hobby?”

  “Fishing.”

  She squeezed the skin between her eyes. “Of course that would be a logical guess since he moved to a fishing village.” She lowered her hand, determination in her gaze. “What was his wife’s name?”

  Ed stepped closer. “My mom was Theresa. She was the CEO of a nonprofit and she died in a car accident when I was in college. My dad had a certain amount of security clearance through his job, so he liked to keep his family life private. My father was an only child. His right index finger was cut off at the knuckle because of a hunting accident when he was seventeen, and he liked to put protein powder in his coffee.”

  He saw the mix of relief, confusion and exhaustion on her face, and he stepped closer. “I am his son, Bailey. We have the same eyes. That’s what everyone has always said.”

  She frowned. “I guess I believe you. I just don’t know who to trust anymore. One minute, I think you’re different from other guys—in a good way. The next minute, I feel convinced that you’re hiding something and aren’t who you claim to be.”

  He squeezed her arm, trying to figure out the best way to smooth over a bumpy situation. He wanted more than anything to put her at ease, to reassure her. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t promise that he wasn’t like the other guys who’d broken her heart. He had too much baggage, too many secrets he couldn’t speak of. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  But there was one thing he was certain of. “Bailey, you can trust me.”

  H
er gaze softened, but only for a moment before she raised her chin defiantly. “How can I be sure of that?”

  “You have to take my word for it.” He wanted to give her more. He really did. But his hands were tied.

  “That’s all you can offer me?”

  He felt his defenses coming down when he heard the earnestness in her voice. “There are things I can’t tell you, Bailey. But I’m on your side. We’re both on the same side. The side of justice.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “Is what they say true?”

  He released her arm and leaned against the counter, trying to take hold of his thoughts. “Depends on what you’re talking about.”

  “Was your father a spy?”

  He let out a tense chuckle, hoping she didn’t hear any truth in the sound. “My dad? A spy? Where did you hear that?”

  “You’re not answering the question.”

  Bailey could see through him and that fact left him feeling unnerved. He found his water glass and refilled it. “My dad was not a spy.”

  She stared at him, unsure what to say or think.

  “You can trust me, Bailey,” he repeated. He meant it. Aside from the secrets he’d been sworn not to share, Bailey could depend on him. He vowed not to let her down. “I would tell you more if I could.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper. “I can tell you that the lab found traces of arsenic in my father’s heart medicine.”

  Bailey gasped, taking the paper from him. “No…”

  He nodded, feeling somber as he confirmed what he’d thought all along. “It’s true. Someone tampered with his prescription. My father was murdered, Bailey. This confirms it. No more doubts.”

  “But why?” Her voice sounded strained, subdued.

  He motioned outside. “Let’s take a walk.”

  She nodded, looking dazed. He put a hand on her elbow and led her outside. He wasn’t sure why he felt the urge to get out of the house, but he did. The whole place could feel stifling with too many reminders of his father’s passing. Then there were the cameras he’d found. What if the whole place was bugged?

  They walked silently until they reached the beach. Ed zipped his jacket up, the wind chilly coming off the water. Bailey shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt. “Bailey, my dad had a high-level position with the State Department. He made a lot of enemies.”